And can I tell you even
though you already know (because I papered you in those three
words and forgot to tape the bottom).
When my nose takes a sip of you
opening wide, weeding out viscous
gossamer angel theory,
only letting pass ruby red scheming thought bubbles
exiting by way of the municipal great divide,
my thumb meets my pointer and says hello.
Excuse me did I say that, did I let it find it‘s way out of me?
Some fans are catching a glimpse of our code,
perhaps the code I concocted without your knowledge.
I signed it in what came out of me.
My words, of course.
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